


I Tried to Crush My Crush but He Crashed Instead

by phoenix_risen



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Gen, M/M, Robot AU, Robots, be more chill reverse big bang 2019, boyf riends - Freeform, implied - Freeform, michael has a crush on his robot, squips a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_risen/pseuds/phoenix_risen
Summary: Alt Title: Mike is lonely so Rich MeddledMichael is a lonely guy who's roommate just moved out. Said roommate decided that a good way to fix loneliness is to give Michael a Squip Co. Companion Bot. Michael isn't quite sure what to do with it, but he eventually comes around to the nervous android.Then things take a turn.For the be more chill reverse big bang





	1. Let's Not Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://wowthatsartbruh.tumblr.com/post/186196960597/so-excited-to-post-my-part-in-the-bmcrbb-i-got check out the art this was inspired by!!!!

Michael was fine being single. It seemed to bother his friends more than it bothered him, which wasn’t hard considering it didn’t bother him at all. Despite popular belief, life was not defined by one’s relationships with other people. Radical thought process, wasn’t it? That he didn’t mind not having a boyfriend. It just wasn’t high on his list of priorities. There were way more important things he needed to attend to than some guy who didn’t even exist. He just started a new job as a software developer for a decently sized company in the city, he moved into a smaller but admittedly nicer apartment, and in his free time he was trying to make a video game. It was a lot to do, he didn’t need another thing. Not right now, at least. Nothing in his life was spurring him to, in the words of his pal Brooke, “go on the prowl”. No time for hunting, he had computers to work with.

That being said, he  _ was _ lonely. His reason for moving was due to Rich, his best friend and roommate, going abroad for an unspecified amount of time with one of his friends. Without him there, even with his new job, Michael couldn’t afford the apartment. On top of that, Brooke moved in with her girlfriend a city over. He didn’t have a lot of friends other than them. Dustin, kind of, maybe? But they didn’t hang out one on one. Considering your weedman a friend was a stretch, and if he was being completely honest, it was a little pathetic, too. It left him feeling sort of down. On an impulse he’d bought a cat (which one should never, ever do, he realized. That was a whole entire life he just purchased on a whim. What the actual hell, Mell) to try and make him less lonely, and as much as he loved her already, it wasn’t the same as someone to actually talk to. Widget was an absolute delight, but she wasn’t a person. He regretted confiding all of this in Rich the last time they talked on the phone, because his tone was one that Michael was very familiar with. It was his “I’m about to do something really fucking stupid and you’re the one who’s gonna get fucked over” voice. It left Michael with a sense of dread that he couldn’t shake. He just knew something was going to happen, it just came down to  _ what _ .

It wasn’t going to be long until he found out just what that was, if the man with the huge box at his front door asking him to sign a clipboard was any indication. Michael almost said no, take this thing away, I’m terrified of what its brown, corrugated walls contain, but instead he signed for the thing. The delivery man walked right into his house after getting his signature, which was not helping the horror of the situation for him, saying it came with free installation. 

It needed  _ installation _ ?

The worst part was that Michael had to get to work, and his choices at this point were waiting for the guy to finish and be late to work, or leaving a stranger in his house alone. After waffling for a while, he bit the bullet and left for work. Anything in his apartment was less valuable than his literal job. His job could give him money, and everything in his apartment was replaceable. He had everything that mattered backed up, he needed a new computer anyways, and honestly he didn’t want to know what Rich had sent him. The box was almost as tall as him, like a refrigerator box. His entire commute to work was consumed with him thinking about what in god’s name was in the box, and how he didn’t really want to know (at all, nope, wasn’t even the  _ slightest  _ bit curious) what might be in that huge box. Like a weird lamp. Or a European statue. Modern art? Maybe it was from one of the installations run by Rich’s- Nope, he didn’t care.

The rest of his day was spent much the same way, him catching himself thinking about whatever was in that box. He’d find out when he got home, of course, but he was stubborn and wanted to hold onto his defiance for as long as he could. Even the text Rich sent him, asking him if a package had arrived, was met with a simple “no.” out of his need to spite him and his weird plans. The day went by slowly, seconds feeling like hours as Michael’s thoughts continually returned to his possibly robbed apartment with some weird Goranski-item. He wasn’t a clock watcher by nature, however his antsiness was getting the better of him. He checked his watch every two minutes, and even packed up early so he could leave as soon as it was time. He hustled out just like he had hustled in, scooting home to, well, do damage control.

His apartment was fine, even locked when he got there. Nothing was moved, touched, and he felt guilty for mentally accusing the poor delivery man baselessly. He was just trying to do his job. With that out of the way, he could just breath easy-

WHAT THE FUCK WAS ON HIS COUCH?

THAT WAS A PERSON.

The sound he made was  _ not _ a becoming one.

The person sitting on his couch didn’t move, just sat there. Smiling. Michael took the chance to calm down and actually look at the person. It dawned on him that this person wasn’t really a person at all. Their skin was silver-blue, and despite being completely nude they didn’t have any… bits. Their joints were a pretty teal, and their eyes matched. They had hair, but it was cerulean to match the hue of the rest of their body. Michael took a deep breath, running his hands down his face with an exasperated “Rich!” before whipping out the phone and texting the guy in question. Rich was, as usual, incredibly unhelpful.  _ Hope you enjoy your new boy toy _ . What did that even mean?

Michael, being the electronics nerd that he was, knew what this thing was. It was a companion bot. They had just begun being sold commercially in Europe, but hadn’t quite caught on in the United States, yet. They could be used as helpers, as friends. The implication of Rich’s text hit him and he blanched. That would be too weird. They were more or less sapient, so the idea of  _ that _ left a bad taste in his mouth.

Michael took a deep breath, and finally decided to address the bot. 

“Uh. Hi.”

Nailed it.

The bot stirred for the first time since Michael arrived, whirring to life and turning in his direction. It spoke, its voice tinny and a little lower than what Michael had expected.

_ Greetings. I am J3-R3, a personalized companion bot. My serial code is M141-11-133R3, and I was sent here to serve as a confidante for Michael Mauricio Mell-Cruz at the request of a Richard Carlisle Goranski. _

“Uh…” Michael stared at him, dumbfounded. “Um. Just Mell is fine. No Cruz needed.”

_ Confirmed. Saved as Michael Mauricio Mell.  _ The bot’s voice was monotone, but there was something behind his eyes. It caught Michael a little off guard. What was it? It wasn’t happiness, despite the smile. Discomfort seemed more accurate. But then it was gone.

“Wait, wait, wait, dude, just call me Michael, or Mike. What can I call you?”

_ I am J3-R3, a personalized companion bot. My serial code is M141-11- _

“133R3, yeah, I heard. I mean like a name, though. Unless you’re like from Star Wars, R2D2 and C3P0? Do you want me to call you J3-R3M141-11-133R3?” Michael sounded a little exasperated, but the bot’s expression actually changed for the first time. The expression was one of shock.

“You actually…. You remembered all that?” The monotone was gone, replaced with anxious wonder. “Your brain must be made of numbers. I-I mean, okay, that was a dumb thing to say, when mine  _ is _ , but…. Wait, oh no, um…”  _ Apologies for talking out of turn.  _

It was Michael’s turn to look shocked. He started grinning. “No, dude, you’re good. You don’t have to go all monotone with me. I don’t mind you talking like a normal person.”

“Oh thank god.” The bot let it’s (they’re?) posture slip, and leaned into the couch. “They tell you that if you don’t act like that that people will send you back.”

.Michael shook his head in disbelief, smile still in place. “What, because you’re a full AI that stutters when they’re nervous, and not a mindless robot?”

“I dunno.” They shifted in their seat. Michael found himself bouncing in new found excitement. A robot that fidgets, who knew! “But I’m glad you seem excited instead of, I don’t know, disappointed.”

“No way! I was a little weirded out at first, but now that I know you can do something other than programmed in statements, I wanna talk to you.” Michael sat on the couch next to the bot, and looked them over. They had their number displayed on their arm. He searched for a name in it, and found one. Looking at it letter wise, it appeared to be JE-REMIAHHEERE. “Can I call you Jere instead of J3-R3? If not, that’s fine.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure. Jere is fine.” They, Jere, smiled at him, but this time there was no vacancy to it. It was a genuine smile. “Way easier than what it was. And I call you Michael, right? Geez, this is way nicer than I was expecting. That Richard guy was really,  _ really _ abrasive. N-no offense, of course! I’m sorry!!” They started backpedaling, but Michael laughed.

“He’s an acquired taste, to be sure. I should know, I lived with the guy. Did he give you any instructions? I’m curious.”

“Uh… Yeah.” Jere looked up, blinking a few times as if trying to remember. Michael watched, and gasped quietly when he noticed that Jere’s pupils had lines and lines of numbers and words speeding by. “Okay, he said to make you less lonely, and take care of your cat Widget, and a few that I honestly deleted because I think they were jokes? But they were nasty.”

Michael snorted. “Sounds about right. God, he’s pushy, isn’t he? He’s my friend, though. Love him to bits.”

“Ah. Is that why you’re lonely? Oh, shit, that was blunt. I-I mean, shoot.” Jere squeaked, looking mortified. “I don’t mean to swear.”

“Go ahead! I don’t mind!” Michael was liking this bot more and more. “You’re so interesting. I’m not sure what to make of it, y’know? Like, you’re kinda awkward and you stutter and fidget… How? How do they do that? Code you to be anxious?”

Jere blinked, momentarily confused by the question. “I mean, I wasn’t always anxious. I’m technically… well, I’m gently used, I guess the term would be. I was owned by someone before. I guess over time I became this way, instead of being the default factory setting. Every bot has self writing code that edits itself and expands based on the owner’s wishes, or even just general external stimuli- why are you looking at me like that?”

“Huh?” Michael had been leaning in closer and closer, mouth agape and eyes wide and starry. He switched back to a smile, but his eyes still shone. “Sorry, I just think that’s the raddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Ah!” Jere’s lights flickered. Michael noted this. “R-really? Wow, oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow…” They hid their face in their hands.

“Yeah! I’m a tech nerd! Can I like… Look? Inside?” Michael eagerly reached forward, but Jere jumped and scooted away. They looked spooked, their entire body tense. Michael dropped his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, weird question, I won’t. No worries.”

Jere visibly relaxed. “Okay. Okay. Sorry, just… please don’t. It’s super complicated in there. There’s a reason only special technicians are supposed to work on us.”

“Ahhhh, is that expensive? Like if you get broken? Like an IPhone?”

“No, no, any  _ mechanic _ is fine. I meant on my hard drive.” They relaxed further, giggling. “No, I’m hardier than an IPhone, I swear.”

“Okay, good. I was gonna say.” Michael gave him a pat on the arm. “So, do you play video games?”

“I can, if you explain the rules. I can also connect to the WiFi and learn that way.” 

“No way! You’ll get better than me! Nope, I’m teaching you the old fashion way.” Michael got up and walked over to the TV. “Get ready to play the best game ever made: Apocalypse of the Damned!!!!”

Jere clapped, despite not knowing at all what AotD was, and it made Michael beam as he popped the cartridge into his old Super Nintendo™. 

He’d have to thank Rich later.


	2. Uncanny Valley

Jere had been staying with Michael for about two months, and they fell into being friends almost uncannily quickly. Jere had decided, in addition to preferring he/him pronouns to they/them, he liked “Jeremy” better than “Jere”. He had confided in Michael that his previous owner (a title Michael had eschewed almost immediately, Jeremy wasn’t his property in his mind) hadn’t allowed him such liberties. He was M141-1, one of many bots Mr. Keanu Squip owned. That was as much as Michael could get out of him about his time with the man. A google search showed that Keanu Squip was a leading figure in robotics, and had invented the companion bots. Jeremy was a J3-R3, the next model being the J4-K3, and so on. He wanted to research it as much as possible, to make sure he was treating Jeremy properly. Machine lubricant for his joints, proper wire adapters so he could charge, and so on. In turn, Jeremy kept the apartment spotless and did errands. He could cook, and he kept widget company. It was kind of like having a house spouse, only they were friends and also Jeremy was a robot.

So kind of not like that at all, huh.

Rich was ecstatic that his plan had worked so well. He gloated about it every time he called, but dodged any accusations of telling Jeremy to do something “nasty”. Michael doubted it, especially now that he knew both Rich  _ and _ Jeremy’s personalities. Yeah, sure, dude, you totally didn’t ask him to do something gross. Uh-huh. Regardless, Michael was thankful. Jeremy was a great companion, sweet and shy, but he could make and take jokes. He said random, off-color things that made Michael laugh his ass off. The light blinking was his form of blushing, and he did it a lot. Sometimes, Michael just wanted to wrap his arms around the bot, rest his chin on his head, and keep him there. Sometimes, he wanted to kiss his forehead and tease him for being silly.

Sometimes, it felt like he almost had a crush on Jeremy.

Haha, that would be funny, wouldn’t it?

Haha.

…

Hm.

Even if he  _ did _ , it wasn’t a big deal. It wouldn’t be the first time he crushed a crush on a friend. It happened a lot. He had gotten rid of his crushes before, and he’d do it again. All it took was a lot of convincing himself it wouldn’t happen, and forcing himself to view the person as just a friend. No problem. In fact, he was already making progress towards putting Jeremy back into friend territory. He totally didn’t think about all the ways he could kiss Jeremy for the first time while he was at work. Nope.  _ And _ he totally didn’t wish for the workday to end so he could get home to spend time with Jeremy. Jeremy, who called him his “favorite person”, and “Micah”, and “Mike n’ Ikes”, and always giggled at his stupid jokes.

Okay, he wasn’t making as much progress as he thought.

It was fine, though, really. He’d live, and keep Jeremy as his friend. Having that was more than enough.

Michael burst through the door when he arrived at the apartment, yelling out to jeremy. “I’m home!”

Usually, almost everyday, jeremy would run up to the door with a grin and ask him about his day. It was almost like being greeted by a pet, but way cuter and nicer since Jeremy could actually sympathize with whatever issue Micahel had at work. Not today, though. Not a word, not a sound, not a trace of Jeremy. Michael felt his stomach tighten,but he swallowed his anxiety. Nothing was wrong. How could it be? His door was locked and Jeremy hadn’t had any errands to run that day. Maybe he was plugged in and in sleep mode..?

Michael checked the couch, his room, the bathroom; if there was an outlet, he checked. Jeremy was nowhere to be found. The most unsettling part was that the TV was on, just playing the News with no one watching. His heart rate was picking up, his chest feeling like it was being constricted. He felt like he was overreacting, but even thinking that didn’t stop the impending panic. The nerves made him jump more than he would have usually when a voice broke through the relative silence of the apartment.

_ So you’re Michael Mell. Scanning M141-1’s memories shows that it thinks very highly of you. You seem somewhat… fragile, in my opinion. _

Michael whipped around to see Jeremy standing in the doorway, and he sighed in momentary relief. It was short-lived as he realized the voice was coming from Jeremy. Jeremy’s voice was usually a tinny, nasally tenor, but this voice was a rich baritone. Jeremy’s lights were no longer their typical teal, and were instead replaced with a dark blue. His expression was apathetic at best and condescending at worst. It looked wrong on Jeremy’s usually sweet features. Michael bristled.

“What the hell? Jeremy?”

_ Is that what you call it? Hmm. Interesting.  _ Jeremy tilted his head to the side, as if thinking about something idly.  _ M141-1 is unfortunately... being recalled. Let’s say that. So I’d drop the attachment quickly, if I were you. _

“Recalled??? There’s nothing wrong with him!” Michael walked up to the bot, looking him over quickly. Jeremy, or whoever was controlling him, gave an annoyed huff.

_ It doesn’t matter. It’s my property, I can take it back if I want. Isn’t that was a recall is? I’d say it’s defective enough. _

“Your property? Jeremy isn’t… wait... _ Squip _ ?” Michael blinked, incredulous. His disbelief quickly became indignation. “No way, too bad. I dunno how he got from you to me, but he’s mine now.”

_ That’s not how that works at all, but I’m a fan of your resolve. Are you sure you want it?  _ A terrifying grin spread over Jeremy’s face, and it made Michael recoil back a little.  _ It’s a terribly disappointing bot, I promise you. _

“What do you know?”

_ I built it from the ground up, Michael Mell. It’s a waste of perfectly good resources. It has  _ _ ANXIETY. _ _ A robot with anxiety!! Pathetic.  _ Jeremy shook his head as if mildly amused by his statement.  _ You know, you can have it. I was simply going to reuse it’s parts, anyway. But maybe you won’t want it if it’s the hunk of scrap I know it is?  _ Tapping, along with the sound of beeping, came from wherever the voice originated. _ Goodbye for now, Michael Mell. _

“What? What do you mean??” Michael grabbed Jeremy’s shoulders and gave him a shake. “What do you mean, scrap?”

Suddenly, Jeremy’s body went limp. The only reason it didn’t fall was Michael’s grip on the shoulders. The sudden weight caught Michael off guard, but he didn’t drop him. He picked Jeremy up bridal style, looking him over with worry. Jeremy’s eyes shot open and were filled with running text, similar to when he was thinking about something. That didn’t normally mean anything malicious, but the sight made Michael’ heart sink. It wasn’t the right color. Usually it would just be his pupils, but his eyes were filled with a familiar blue with white text.

The blue was exactly the same as the “Blue Screen of Death”.

Oh fuck.

Michael ran him to his office and set him in the computer chair. He tilted Jeremy’s body forward and started running his hands over him, trying to locate a place to open him up. It ended up being on the back of his neck, almost hidden by his hair. Michael opened the compartment and found several ports and cords. One was his charging port, but one was a computer adaptor. Michael grabbed it and plugged it into his computer. He was working as fast as he could, trying to figure out what was going on. Somehow, some way that was even beyond him, he got to Jeremy’s data storage. The lines of saved information and files were disappearing at an alarming rate. Michael didn’t know how to save them, or if they were even important, but he started copying them and moving them to his computer as fast as he could manage. His heart was beating out of his chest, the files weren’t copying fast enough, he was going to lose Jeremy to some entitled prick who, for some reason after months of not doing anything decided to take Jeremy away from him.

The asshole.

It got down to Michael crossing his fingers and hoping to god that Jeremy wasn’t gone forever. The guilt would eat him alive if he wasn’t able to save him. He deleted almost everything he had on the laptop storage to make room for Jeremy, and if that wasn’t enough for Jeremy to run, then he didn’t know what he’d do.

Please, please, please…..

Please, please, please…..

_ Please…. _

….

…

..

.


	3. Things Are Okay, We Think.

_ Sys Reboot _

  
  


_ Welcome back, J3-R3M141-11-133R3. Assessing damage…. _

__ Loading....  
  


_ Loading.... _

_ Loading.... _

_ 20% lost data.... _

_ 43% damaged data... _

_ 37% recovered data... _

_ Further Salvage in process.... _

_ All damaged data was able to be salvaged. Reboot complete. Running M141_1.exe... _

Jeremy had had a weird day. He couldn’t quite remember why, but it definitely had been weird. He opened his eyes, and found that he couldn’t see anything, like he was wearing a blindfold. Not total blackness, but no visibility. What in the…?

He tried to move, but nothing was cooperating. It was like he was paralyzed. It was like before, long before. His earliest memories. No sight, no movement, just the awareness that he was awake and thinking. He tried to speak, but that also didn’t happen. It was like he didn’t have a mouth anymore. After a bit of struggle, he got the feeling like he’d communicated something.

**~Hello?**

There was no response for a few beats, but then it echoed in his head. Not like sound, like it was placed their and he thought it himself.

**-Jeremy!! Ur okay!! :D**

Jeremy would’ve frowned if he had the capability. Actually, in a way he did, didn’t he? He tried.

**~:( I guess? I am confused. What is going on?**

**-Squip tried to wipe you <:0 it was awful. I put your brain in my computer.**

**~I… see. Or no I do not. You have something on my eyes.**

**-OH I CAN FIX THAT, WAIT!**

Jeremy’s sight was filled with light a split second later, then focused in on Michael. He was gritty, like he was being filmed on a potato, and looked like he may have been crying very recently. Jeremy wanted to hug him, but seeing as he was literally in a computer at this point, it wasn’t very possible. Instead, he sent another message.

**~Please don’t cry!! Micah!!**

**-I’m sorry, i’m sorry**

Jeremy could see him wiping his face mournfully, and it made him sad. He didn’t want Michael to cry over him.

**~Thank you for saving me**

**-Of course, of course! You’re my best friend at this point, dude, I couldn’t let him hurt you.**

Michael gave the camera a weepy grin, and Jeremy wished he could smile reassuringly back. In the beginning, he was only text in a computer, but after so long being liberated from it he didn’t like being back.

**~Is my body ruined?**

**-No clue, but I think it has a virus. Now that I know you’re okay, I’m gonna look into it more. Figure out if I can put you back. If not I’m gonna get you a new body.**

**~Wont that be expensive????!?!?!?!?!?! You dont have to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**-Woah there punctuation fiend. It’ll be fine. Rich can help me make one if yours is unusable. Anyways, if we put your mind in a new bot, that voids any warranties, I think. Squip won’t be able to claim recall again. I think. Key phrase.**

**~Hnn.**

Michael, on the outside, was just relieved to have Jeremy talking to him. He saw the boot up message and had been terrified that the data that had been lost was important. From this little conversation, at least the data wasn’t anything that had to do with him personally. Jeremy was, as far as he could tell, normal again. He was still scared about trying to check the body. He decided to leave it for now, just take a deep breath and be happy that Jeremy was mostly okay. Thank the lord.

He continued his conversation with Jeremy, something stupid and mundane to make both of them feel better. So far it was raising both of their spirits, just knowing it would be resolved.

In the living room, the TV was still playing. It was low enough to be heard, but not from Michael’s office. A worried looking woman grasping a microphone was on screen, talking rapidly.

“-ll across the Europe, Squip Co. robots have been wiping themselves clean and replacing their core objectives with a need to take down their owners. Overall there have been two fatalities and many more wounded, and when approached for an explanation, the CEO only had to say-”

Neither Jeremy nor Michael heard this warning, too caught up in each other’s presence. But if they had, maybe they would have thought twice about sitting right next to Jeremy’s prone body. There was no stirring from the bot, and no fear from the two. All impending insidiousness was lost on them, at least in the meantime.

  
  


TO BE CONTINUED…. (?)


End file.
